LYING           
          IN   MY   ROOM,           
  ARMS FLOPPED OVER THE EDGE OF THE BED. 
      SOMETHING POKING  MY LEFT  HAND, 
                  SOMETHING     SLIMY, 
      SLITHERING  AROUND  THE FINGERS, 
           UP   THE   ARM.          
 IS   IT   DRUG-FUELED   APATHY?       
         I   DON'T   MOVE   THE   ARM. 
                                 
 WHATEVER IT IS THAT'S TASTING ME,     
 IT   MOVES   FURTHER    UP,           
 REACHES    THE    ARMPIT.             
 I  TURN  MY   HEAD  TOWARD  IT.       
            LOOKS    LIKE    SEAGRASS. 
        IT'S  KINDA   CUTE.         
                                 
     ONCE  IT'S UP MY NECK AND  ON  MY 
 FACE,    I    BITE    IT.             
     THE TEXTURE  IS  LIKE  THAT  OF A 
 JUICY                          GRAPE, 
    AND THE  SQUISH TASTES LIKE  SWEET 
                      CUCUMBER.    
    IT'S  VERY GOOD.    AND I    
 SUCK   MORE   OF   IT   IN.           
             CHEW    IT.            
    THE SEAGRASS DOESN'T SEEM TO MIND. 
                                 
     APATHY   GONE,   I  SIT  UP.     
    THE TENDRILS  ARE  STUCK UNDER    
    MY  SHIRT,    ENTERING BY THE ARM 
 AND  EXITING  THROUGH  THE COLLAR.     
    THIS MAKES IT HARD  FOR ME  TO PUSH 
 MORE   OF  IT   IN   MY   MOUTH.       
   I MAKE TO REMOVE THE SHIRT, BUT  THE 
 SEAGRASS FINALLY  PROTESTS WHEN I TRY TO 
 MOVE     MY     LEFT     ARM.          
     SO  -  EATING  IT  IS   OK,      
       MOVING  IT  IS  NOT.